


he knows so much about these things

by janed



Category: Cursed (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-16
Updated: 2007-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janed/pseuds/janed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could think of at least nine reasons why this was a really bad idea, half of them involving weird shit from the Bible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	he knows so much about these things

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to livejournal. Written for **carleton97**. Title ripped off from The Smiths.

He could think of at least nine reasons why this was a really bad idea, half of them involving weird shit from the Bible.

Like a stoning. Or being turned into a pillar of salt.

He hadn't really worked out how the salt thing was going to work but he was pretty sure if he got expelled for making out with a dude in the janitor's supply closet, Ellie would figure out a way to do it.

Shit, he was so screwed.

He should have just ignored the weird looks Bo had been shooting him at lunch. He should have just stomped down on that weird compulsive need to pull him aside during class change and make sure everything was cool. He should have, like, resisted harder when Bo had grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him in here instead of just stupidly trailing along, like something bad wasn't totally going to happen.

Not that making out with Bo was bad or something. It was actually pretty much the greatest shit in the world. But not during school! No! What the hell was Bo thinking? God, he could be so stupid sometimes.

It wasn't like any of the janitors ever actually, like, cleaned anything. But you could never tell, today could be the day that one of them decided that waxing the gym floors or trying to bleach out the weird lemon-and-cat-shit smell that permeated the boys' bathroom in the math hall could be exactly what they needed to do. Or, more likely, one of them could just want to grab a nap in here.

There was no way there was enough room for somebody to take a nap with Bo in here sucking on his neck.

Shit, okay, he was going to have to say something.

"Um."

Okay, a little more than that probably.

He swallowed hard, trying to get a little more moisture to the freaking Sahara Desert he was calling a tongue, and opened his mouth to try again.

"Hey, Bo, I, uh--"

"You're so fucking hot today," Bo muttered, cutting him off, all breathy and wet against Jimmy's skin. "It's been driving me fucking crazy."

Jimmy shuddered and tightened his fingers, twisted up and pulling at the fabric of Bo's shirt, reflexively. "Well, thanks, but... _Shit_. Uh."

Bo's teeth dragged across his skin and it was like a direct toll-free line straight to his dick. He shifted his feet and tried to tilt his head even further to the side. Bo's fingers rubbed at his right nipple and he bit his bottom lip. _Hard._

"But what?" Bo mumbled, pressing kisses to his skin.

"This is kind of... Okay, you know this is a really stupid thing to do, right?"

Bo laughed and licked a hot stripe up the side of his neck, that fucking evil mouth lazily moving against his ear. "No way, this is the best idea I've ever had."

"But what if we get caught? What if, like--" Bo's teeth tugged at his earlobe and his eyes rolled back, an embarrassing little moaning noise pushing up from the back of his throat. "What if somebody catches us?"

Way to rephrase, Myers.

"Dude, I've made out in here a million times, we're not going to get caught."

For a second, he felt sort of comforted by the fact that Bo had a history of not getting caught doing shit like this. But then it sunk in.

Bo had a history of doing shit like this.

Not with _him_ , with _other people_.

There was a weird surge of possessiveness in his stomach, which was dumb because it wasn't like he didn't already _know that_ , but before he could even really register how dumb it was, he was shoving Bo back against the other wall of the tiny closet and pressing right up on him. Like he was making a _claim_ or something.

Bo let out a surprised sort of noise when his back hit the wall and even in the half-assed light from the crack under the door, Jimmy could see his expression was one best fitting a _the fuck?_ speech bubble.

Stupid, stupid werewolf throwbacks. He was the hugest loser ever.

"A _million_ times?" He said, his cheeks going hot and his voice completely betraying his embarrassment.

"Shit, it's an--" Bo started and stopped, sort of squinting at him for a second, and then smirked. "Wait, are you _jealous_? Seriously?"

"No!" Jimmy snapped, obviously too quickly when Bo just leveled his gaze. "Maybe a little."

They just stood there for a minute, Bo giving him this weird kind of look that Jimmy couldn't quite pin down, and then Bo was tugging him forward and mumbling _that's so hot_ against his mouth.

Maybe not the _hugest_ loser, then.

Bo's hands slid up to either side of his face, tilting his head as their tongues slipped together, slow and easy, lazy like they'd kissed a thousand times before. Which, well, he wasn't counting or anything so there wasn't a definite number, but he was sure a thousand was at least a little bit of an exaggeration. He was pretty sure, anyway.

He slid his hands underneath Bo's shirt, palms rubbing up his sides, and Bo shifted a little, pulling him in closer, until there wasn't even breathing space between them. Bo's hips pressed against his, and even with the eternal suck that was two layers of jeans, the rush of friction had his stomach twisting with lust. He groaned in the back of his throat, pushing his hands up and around to the hot skin of Bo's back as he rocked his hips forward. Again and again until they weren't even kissing anymore, just panting against each other's mouths. Until it got more insistent, more deliberate. Until Bo was shuddering his breath hitching up in his throat as he jerked his head to the side.

Jimmy pressed his lips to the side of Bo's mouth, his cheek, his jaw, dragging across skin to put tongue and teeth to that spot just under his ear that always made him jerk like he'd been shocked. Bo made a desperate little sound in the back of his throat, like something had broken inside him, and the sound shot right to Jimmy's gut. It was like one of those moments where you realize the purpose of the universe. Except that it wasn't so much the purpose of the universe as it was that, unless something drastic happened, he was definitely going to be coming in his pants in a janitor's closet when he was really supposed to be in sixth period and there was pretty much nothing he could do about it.

Maybe Bo had the same realization. Or maybe Bo didn't. But either way, at that next moment, the one right after his stunning revelation, Bo was pushing at his chest, shoving him back a step, two steps, and slipping down the wall to his knees.

And Jimmy thought that he probably should have had some sort of reaction to that. Like maybe words. Or something. But it was like his entire spine just melted and reformed in the space of time it took Bo to undo his jeans and get his cock out, and all he could actually manage was making this dumb whimpering noise and staring down dumbly as Bo looked up at him and proceeded to make his heart explode in his chest by leaning forward and just _sucking him down_.

They really had to get some sort of hobby besides making out.

He groaned softly, part incredulous and part _Bo, you fucking dick_ , and his eyes rolled back in his head, squeezing shut tight for a moment, before he had to look again. Like, just to be sure, maybe. Or maybe just because there was some kind of genetic mutation that made it impossible for guys not to watch when someone was messing around with the junk. You know, with their mouths.

From the angle and the shitty lighting, there wasn't really much to see, it was all shadow except for the oddly lit highlight here and there, but the dark glitter of Bo's eyes every time he looked up was more than enough.

Bo's right hand was curled around the base of his cock, squeezing and twisting in time, just exactly how he knew Jimmy liked it. His breath was harsh and loud out of his nose, heavy and humid on Jimmy's skin, but the sloppy wet sounds of his mouth working Jimmy over were even louder. Every sound echoed in the tiny space, echoed off the standard metal shelving and the bottles of pine-scented floor cleaner and the boxes of that pink saw dust puke powder.

God, what the hell were they _doing_?

He was supposed to be in algebra right now, not in some gross ass janitor's closet getting a blowjob and probably high off of god only knows what kind of fumes.

If algebra equals y and blowjob equals x, how hard is Jimmy going to fail this class?

But he couldn't even care. He couldn't even try. He was getting a _blowjob_ instead of having to stare at the stray back hairs that curled up over the collar of Mr Fresco's ugly casual dress shirt and pretend he actually gave a shit about math. He was getting a _blowjob_ period. There wasn't even a number to describe the amount of better this was.

Fuck algebra, fuck all his classes, fuck the rest of his _life_ , fuck anything that wasn't Bo's mouth on him, wet and warm and perfect.

Fuck anything that wasn't Bo.

"Oh, shit," he gasped, his shoulders jerking forward as Bo's tongue did that little slippery twist thing that always made his eyes roll back. " _Shit._ "

His head felt light, his knees felt weak, and he had a wild thought that he was going to pass out, but then decided, no, fuck that, there was no way he was missing this. He put his hand up on the wall in front of him to brace himself, flexing his fingers against the cement. There was something sticky smeared over it, tacky like rubber cement or melted rubberbands, but he couldn't find it in him to be disgusted. He couldn't even care.

He licked wetly at his mouth and rubbed his forehead against his sleeve, biting his lips together as Bo's free hand slipped up his thigh, tugging his jeans down a little further, thumb rubbing circles over his naked hip before moving up to push under his shirt.

Bo's hand slid back and forth over his stomach, rubbing at it, trying to ground him maybe. And he didn't know why but he reached down with the hand not doing its best to death grip the wall and covered Bo's hand with his own, squeezing tightly at Bo's fingers through the fabric.

Bo made a low sort of noise in the back of his throat, pressing forward like he really _meant it_ , and Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut as it vibrated right up his spine to explode in his brain, like a thousand little stars dancing just for him.

Fuck.

His shoulders jerked with every slip of Bo's tongue, every suck, every twist of his wrist, every everything. He hunched over, his fingers balling into a fist against the wall and squeezingsqueezing at Bo's hand, his stomach hitching uncontrollably as he gasped, half-moans caught on his lips and in his throat. He was trying to be quiet, he really was, but it was _so fucking hard_.

Bo's hand at the base of his cock uncurled, palm flattening as he took Jimmy's cock deeper in his mouth, and Jimmy sucked in a breath, his toes curling in his sneakers. And as Bo pulled back and went down again, his breath heaved out of his chest on a shuddering moan.

His fingers slipped loose of their grip on Bo's hand through his shirt and found their way threading through his hair, it was all wet with sweat and it clung to Jimmy's fingertips. There was some kind of rule against grabbing people's hair when they went down on you, Jimmy knew, but he couldn't help himself, and if the way Bo sped up just that much more, he wasn't getting a complaint.

Bo's hand slipped around to his side, across the small of his back, and pushed down into the back of his jeans. Sweaty palm and rough fingers grabbing and kneading at his ass in some kind of fucked up rhythm with the jerky twitches of his hips. Urging him on, quicker, faster, until every inch of his body was tensing up, teetering on the edge. And when Bo's fingers slipped even further, pressing and pressing, he just _broke_.

Broke like shattered, like destroyed, like he came apart and was put back together in the same second, like he'd never felt anything in his life and would never feel anything again. He shook and he shuddered, jerking shoulders and hitching sounds, as he pulled at Bo's hair and came in his mouth. And Bo just took it, swallowed against it, like that was the whole point of this entire stupid thing in the first place. Like killing Jimmy with his own special brand of mind-blowing oral sex was his entire intention.

Stupid sometimes, maybe, but a fucking genius in that stupidity. Like some kind of sexual idiot savant.

Jimmy didn't even wait until he could breathe again before hauling Bo up by his shoulders and pushing him against the wall, mouth moving against Bo's as his fingers fumbled at the front of Bo's jeans, frantic and desperate and _needing_ to get his own back. He could feel Bo's heart pounding right through his chest.

Bo's face was all sweaty and his mouth tasted like come, and it was a little gross but somehow still the hottest thing ever. His fingers dug into the back of Jimmy's neck as Jimmy jerked him off hard and fast, twist of the wrist and squeeze on the upstroke. He panted and hitched his hips forward, pushing his cock through Jimmy's fist, each slip a little more erratic than the last, until he was moaning shamelessly into Jimmy's mouth and coming, pulsing sticky wet, over his fingers.

They kissed lazily, sharing breath, and his hand slipped wetly over Bo's cock, wanting to ring out every little twitch and gasp he could get, until Bo hissed like it hurt and shifted just enough to reach down and pull Jimmy's hand off him. Their fingers twisted together, some kind of bizarrely pornographic form of hand-holding, and even if it was bizarre and pornographic, all sticky with come, he couldn't help the stupid, blissed-out grin.

"Okay, maybe that was the best idea you ever had."

Bo laughed against his mouth, voice gone rough like gravel. "I fucking _told_ you, didn't I?"

"So now I guess you're going to tell me how you plan on us going to seventh period looking like we've just been to a gangbang too, right?"

Bo's teeth bit at his bottom lip and his fingertips pressed against Jimmy's wrist like he was feeling out his pulse. "Who said anything about going to seventh period?"


End file.
